What I've Done
by acciodanrad9
Summary: Natalie reflects on her and Keith's relationship in sunsets.


**A/N:** _Hey, guys! I come to you with another Keith story! I got this story idea months ago, but was going to wait to write it until after I finished _Breathe_, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone. I've been working on this story the better part of six months. It's very different than anything I've ever written before, so I'm a little nervous to see what you guys think. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

_What I've Done_

_**Then **_

_(January 2010)_

1.

When Natalie remembered, she thought of the sky. On the night—the night she believed everything started to fall apart—she drove home as the sun was setting, blanketing her world in orange and pink light. The setting sun made everything—buildings, houses, street lamps—so much clearer, and it was as if she finally saw the world. At the time, Natalie thought it beautiful.

She took the long way home, trying to memorize how everything looked illuminated in the colors and how she felt—so incredibly happy and so content with her life. She had Keith and he was all she ever needed.

Four years. Four years she had been with Keith. Some nights, like tonight, when she arrived at their small but quaint apartment and Keith wasn't due to come home until late, she wondered what life would be like if she came home every night and Keith wasn't there. She didn't wonder long; the thought of Keith not in her life was too painful. Instead, she thought of the summer after senior year and how the chemo _started working_ and how Keith got better. Healthy.

But later, just as her orange and pink world turned to black, everything changed. Keith came home early, banging the front door open and flying across the entryway; he didn't make it far before he fell to his knees and started throwing up into the trashcan next to the couch in the living room.

It took Natalie a few seconds to process what was going on, but when she did she threw the cucumber she had been peeling for salad on the counter and rushed over to him. "It's okay, it's okay," she soothed, cringing as he continued to throw up.

When he was done, his knees gave out and he went limp; Natalie was there for him to fall against. "I'm sorry," he said pitifully. "I'm think I'm sick. I had to leave class early. I—"

"It's okay. C'mon, let's get you to bed." He didn't object and she helped him stand, change into his pajamas, and get in bed. "Should I call the doctor tomorrow?" she asked worriedly, staring down at him. "Make you an appointment for—"

"No!" Keith interrupted frantically. "_No_. I'll be okay, I promise." She believed him.

She had been a fool.

2.

On a Wednesday, two months later, Henry called Natalie as she was leaving work. "Have you checked on Keith? He won't answer my calls."

"Checked on him?" she asked worriedly, fumbling with her phone as she got into her car. "Is everything okay?"

"He wasn't feeling well when we meet up for lunch today after he got out of class. He told me he was going to call in sick to work and go home and rest. I was trying to check on him, but he won't answer his cell phone; he looked pretty bad. Maybe he's sleeping…"

Natalie felt her stomach sink at his words. "He-he never called me. I had no idea he wasn't feeling well. I'm on my way home now."

When she got home, she found Keith on the couch. Rays of sun were streaming through the blinds in wide pink-tinged golden arches; the light fell on Keith's sleeping form making him look almost inhuman and more angel like.

His arms were wrapped tightly around his chest and he shook with chills even though he was wearing a thick sweater and sweatpants. Natalie grabbed a red throw blanket from the chair next to the couch and covered him with it. Then, she kneeled down so she was level with him. "Keith," she whispered, squinting as the setting sun shined directly in her eyes. "_Keith_."

He opened his eyes then and it took him a moment to wake up and realize she was there. "Hi," he said, voice dry and thick with sleep.

"Hey," she said softly, running her fingers through his hair. Doing so made her realize he was running a high temperature; his hair was wet from sweat and sticking to his forehead. "Your dad called and told me you weren't feeling well. Why didn't you call me?"

"_Because_." It would take Natalie years after this day to realize why he hadn't told her; he had been terrified of the one thing she ended up doing.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" she asked.

She expected him to say _since this morning_ or _last night_ but instead he answered, "For a few months."

"_Months_? Keith, why—" She cut herself off as Keith started coughing. Harsh, painful sounding coughs, which caused his whole body to shake.

When he was done, his arm fell limply off the couch, as if the coughing took all the energy he had. With his arm hanging off the edge of the couch, Natalie saw it—_red_—and she felt her heart skip a beat. She grabbed his hand and stared at his palm. "Keith?" she choked, voice shaking, tears building.

He didn't need to look to know what she was seeing; he already knew and whispered, voice barely audible, "I'm _sorry_."

3.

The next day, ignoring Keith's objections, Natalie made him a doctor's appointment. Keith's doctor, Dr. Durban, requested multiple tests to be done. Keith spent the next week going to the hospital. Keith had an MRI done of his chest, multiple blood samples taken, x-rays, and more. No one talked about it. No one talked about it because they knew. Natalie knew. Henry knew. Keith knew. Everyone _knew_ whatever was wrong with Keith, it was bad. It was as if they wanted as much time as possible to act like everything was normal, because everything was going to change.

During the week Keith went to class; he went to work. But as soon as he got home he laid on the couch exhausted and stared at the T.V. with a fevered gaze.

Two weeks after Keith's first appointment with Dr. Durban, Natalie was cleaning their bedroom. She was trying to be quiet while cleaning and Keith was taking a nap in their bed. Natalie was hanging up clothes in their closet, when it happened. Keith's cell phone rang. Natalie tensed, waiting for Keith to wake up and answer it, but he never did. After the fourth ring, Natalie couldn't take it anymore.

She answered.

"Hello?" she answered hesitantly, trying to keep her voice quiet so she didn't wake Keith.

"Is Keith Zetterstrom available? This is Dr. Caleb Durban."

"Hi, Dr. Durban." Her heart started beating rapidly in her chest. "This is Natalie. Keith's sleeping right now," she whispered. Then, not being able to help herself, asked, "Have the test results come back?"

"Yes," he said slowly, "I've just received them." He paused. "I think it's best if you guys make an appointment to come in so we can go over them."

Natalie's blood went cold. "Are-are they bad?" She turned around to face the window; the sun was setting, but the orange and pink clouds were quickly disappearing behind dark grey ones. A storm was approaching.

"Natalie, I really think—"

"Is it back?" she cried. "Is the cancer _back_?"

She didn't get to hear a response; the cell phone was ripped from her grip and Keith was standing there, hair mussed from sleep, fire in his eyes.

"Tell me, Caleb," he demanded. "Just tell me. Is it back?" Silence. "No, I want to know _now_." Keith's face changed from determination to sadness to acceptance in only a few seconds. "Okay," said Keith, voice tight like he was trying_ hard _to fight back tears. "I understand."

When Keith hung up a minute later he looked at Natalie, eyes glazed and glossy. "I am _so_ sorry," he said, voice cracking.

"What-what did he say, Keith?" The tears were coming now, sliding down her cheeks fast and strong.

"It's lung cancer. I need surgery."

4.

Keith was scheduled for surgery ten days later. Natalie stood next to Keith's hospital bed, hand gripped with his as the nurse prepared him for surgery. The hospital room was too bright. There was too much white—white walls, white sheets, white furniture—the room burned Natalie's eyes as if it was the sun. Henry was standing behind Natalie, but even though he was far away, his eyes never did leave his son.

"I'm inserting the anesthesia now," said the nurse. "It won't take long for him to fall asleep."

Natalie took this as the cue to say goodbye. She leaned over Keith and kissed him on the forehead. "_I love you_," she whispered, emphasizing each word. She wanted Keith's body to absorb the words so they would always be with him.

The medicine was already working, and Keith was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "You'll be here when I'm done?" he asked, voice slurring as he struggled to say awake.

"Where else would I be?" She smiled at him, and he stared at her until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. When his grip on her hand went slack, she knew he was asleep.

* * *

Time passed by slowly. Natalie tried to occupy herself by reading, but she couldn't concentrate; all she could think about was Keith. After three hours of waiting, her mind started to drift to the 'what ifs.' What if Keith _didn't_ make it? What if he _died_?

She didn't know what she would do. How could she live her life without Keith in it? She wouldn't have anyone to argue with; she wouldn't have Keith to wake up to every morning; she wouldn't have anyone to be herself around anymore.

She would have _nothing._

One hour later, as the sun began disappearing, turning the sky the color of lilacs, Keith's surgeon, Dr. Markus, appeared. "How is he?" demanded Natalie, standing up so quickly she got a head rush. _Please be okay. _Please_ be okay_.

"Keith's in the ICU recovering right now." Sensing Natalie's next question he added, "He's still waking up so you'll need to wait for him to wake up more fully before you go see him."

Natalie gave a short nod. Henry asked, his voice tight and gruff, "So how'd it go? Did you get the cancer out?"

Dr. Markus' face fell—just a fraction—but it was enough and Natalie knew. "The cancer wasn't just on his left lung like I expected, some has already grown into his chest. The good news is with the thoracotomy I performed, I was able to surgically remove part of his left lung that was cancerous; however, I'm extremely concerned about the fact the cancer has spread. We're going to have to start Keith on some intensive chemotherapy treatments after he's recovered from the surgery. Hopefully, the chemotherapy will kill the cancer and prevent it from spreading."

Natalie wiped tears that were falling down her face before she asked, "What-what are his chances?"

Dr. Markus' eyes pierced Natalie's. His eyes were sad, but his body still exuded professionalism. "I'm going to try my hardest to make sure Keith survives," he stressed. "Keith's a fighter. He's beat cancer once. But I want you—" He turned towards Henry whose eyes were extremely red "—to be prepared."

"Thank you, Dr. Markus," said Henry brokenly. "Just promise me you'll do whatever you can to save my son."

* * *

An hour later, Natalie and Henry were allowed to go visit Keith in the ICU. They were told they couldn't stay more than ten minutes and Natalie had been upset, but she was happy she could at least see him. She had promised him she'd be there.

When they arrived, in a room brighter than the hospital room they had been in earlier, Keith was lying on his right side. A thin white sheet covered him up to his waist. He was wearing the same flimsy hospital grown from earlier. Natalie could see a large bandage covering his left side. The bandage started from the left of his heart, around his side, and a few inches up his back. Natalie looked away; it looked so painful. She couldn't even begin to comprehend how much pain he was in.

She stood in front of Keith, Henry next to her. Keith's eyes were closed. She wasn't sure if he was sleeping; she didn't want to wake him if he was. So instead of speaking, she grabbed his hand.

His eyes opened at her touch.

"Hi, sweetie," whispered Natalie. Her eyes filled with tears—he looked so weak and so so sick—and she tried hard to prevent them. Keith was already confused and hurting enough, she didn't want him to worry about her getting upset.

"Hi." His voice sounded hoarse and dry. Natalie wanted to give him water, but didn't know if she could.

Natalie moved so Henry could get closer to Keith. "Hi, buddy." Henry placed the palm of his hand against the side of Keith's face and ran his thumb down Keith's cheek. Any other day Keith would have pulled away embarrassed, but today Natalie could tell Keith welcomed the touch.

"Hi, Dad," he mumbled.

"You feeling all right?"

At this, a pained expression graced his face. "My chest hurts a lot."

"I know, but you'll feel better soon. You did good, I'm proud of you."

A smile— a very small one—but a smile nevertheless graced Keith's face for a split second. "I'm gonna go to sleep now." He blinked rapidly after he said this, as if he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

"Okay," said Henry, removing his hand.

Keith turned back to look at Natalie. "Don't leave until I fall asleep, okay?"

Natalie bit her lip to prevent herself from crying. It took her a few seconds to make sure she was sure she wouldn't burst into tears before she said, "I won't."

5.

Keith was released from the hospital ten days later at dusk. He was to spend three weeks recovering from his surgery before he started his chemotherapy treatments.

The first night was difficult. Keith had gone to bed early, Natalie joining him soon after, but he didn't sleep long. A few hours later, around midnight, he woke Natalie up with his squirming. "Keith," she mumbled, rolling over to face him, still half asleep. "What's wrong?"

"I'm uncomfortable," he whined, sounding so pitiful it caused Natalie's heart to physically ache. She sat up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp and got a good look at him. He was sitting up in bed, arm wrapped tightly around his left side where his stitches were, and looking rather pale.

"Does your chest hurt?" she asked, even though she already knew what his answer would be with the way he wouldn't pull his arm away. He nodded. Natalie craned her neck to check the nightstand clock next to Keith's bed. "It's been long enough, you can have more pain medicine." Quickly, Natalie padded to the kitchen, the floor cold on her feet, to grab his medicine and a glass of water. When she returned, Keith took the pill without complaint. "Think you can go to sleep now?"

Keith shook his head. "No, it hurts to sleep."

"It hurts to sleep? What do you mean?" she asked, concern filling her up.

Keith rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, and when he pulled his hand away Natalie saw how exhausted he looked. He needed to get some sleep. "It's hard to breathe," he said. "And my incision hurts."

"Oh," said Natalie, biting her lip. "I have an idea. How about you try to seep on the couch? That way you can sit up a little."

He yawned and considered this. "Will you sleep out there with me?"

"I sleep where you are." He smirked and in that moment Natalie realized how much she missed his smiles, his crooked grins. How much she missed _him_.

She set them up on the couch in the living room and turned on the television even though there would be nothing on at this time of night. Hopefully the sound might soothe Keith to sleep. It worked, because twenty minutes later, Keith's head fell on her shoulder. She thought he was already asleep but then he said, his voice small and timid, "I don't want to do chemo again."

At the poignancy in Keith's voice, tears filled Natalie eyes. She sniffed before saying, "I don't want you to either, but it's going to make you _better_."

"You really believe that?" he snapped.

_No_, she wanted to say. _No, I don't believe that. I don't believe in much anymore_, but instead she said, "Yes, I believe it. You're going to fight this and survive."

Silence filled the air for awhile, and then Keith finally said, "I hope so."

It was that night—that _exact_ moment—the idea first came to Natalie: the idea of leaving. She thought about packing a bag and disappearing. Of running away. Running away from all of the pain and the inevitable heartbreak.

She couldn't do this, watch Keith die; she wasn't strong enough.

6.

The chemo affected Keith ten times worse than it had when he had last gone through it four years ago. As soon as they got home after the first treatment, Keith started throwing up and didn't stop until late the next morning. Natalie hoped his body would get use to the chemo and he wouldn't get so sick after each treatment, because she couldn't stand seeing Keith this sick all the time. It was tearing her apart.

But his body never did get use to the medicine that was breaking him down, but at the same letting him live.

Two months had passed since he started the treatments and he always seemed sick, even when he was taking a break from the chemo he was still exhausted and never felt like himself. Good days were few and far between. When he did have them Natalie made him get out of the house. They would walk around the park to bring up his strength or go to the movies. Most days, though, he stayed home buried under a pile of blankets.

The call came on a warm, summer's night in the beginning of June as Natalie was leaving work. "Natalie, I had to take Keith to the hospital," came Henry's voice. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to call you. Keith refused to eat or drink anything all day, then he started throwing up blood."

"Is-is he okay?" she questioned, blinking rapidly.

Henry sighed and instead of directly answering her question replied, "He's sleeping now. They gave him an IV to hydrate him and he's on some stronger pain medication. He wanted me to ask you if you could stop by."

"I'm on my way," she said. When she got to her car, the tears finally came. Fast and hard and strong. She didn't try to stop them; she just let herself cry. Her tears caused the colors of the sky to blur together into a swirl of orange and pinks and grays and she couldn't focus on anything expect for the pain she was feeling. And she had never been in more pain.

7.

Keith was admitted to the hospital and told by Dr. Durban it would be best if he stayed until his body could gain some strength and be able to handle the chemotherapy better. That had been weeks ago. Natalie was exhausted, both mentally and physically. She spent most of her time at the hospital with Keith; she was rarely ever at home.

It was Friday afternoon and Natalie could barely keep her eyes open, she had just finished a week of finals and was now officially done with college. She wasn't excited about it, though. Graduating college was something she and Keith were supposed to do _together _and he had been too sick to complete his semester. Keith had just gotten another round of chemo and had been too sick today for her to even think about celebrating; she had been occupied ever since she arrived at the hospital trying to keep Keith comfortable.

It was after lunchtime and all Keith wanted to do was take a nap, but he couldn't fall asleep. He was in too much pain. He was lying on his side facing away from her, but she could tell he was awake by his breathing; it was ragged and choppy and she could just _hear_ the pain he was feeling with every breath he exhaled. This went on for the next hour, but then Keith suddenly flipped onto his back, his grip tearing away from Natalie's, as he cried out in pain. He was in so much pain his back arched off the bed.

"Partner," he cried, voice laced with so much pain Natalie wanted to cry. "It_ hurts_. Please make it stop." A tear was sliding down his cheek and Natalie's gaze was transfixed on that single tear; she was so shocked at the sight, she was frozen for a few seconds. He was crying. Keith was _crying_. In the four years they had been dating, Natalie had never seen him cry.

She stood up then, knowing that if he was crying he was in a tremendous amount of pain. Running her fingers gently through his hair, she knew he had a fever by the way his hair stuck to his forehead and his shirt was sticking to his skin and, most importantly, how hot his skin felt against the palm of her hand. "Shhh," she soothed. "It's okay. I'll page the nurse and see if you can have more pain medication, all right?" When she pulled her hand away, strands of his hair came away with her fingers and she cringed. She didn't say anything.

He was given pain mediation and it helped for a while, but then he started throwing up and he spent the rest of the afternoon being sick. Finally, he fell asleep just as the sky began to turn a dark, red orange. After he fell asleep, Natalie finally let herself cry, really cry, because she knew. She had known for a while. Keith was going to die. And she couldn't watch him die. It was too painful.

She knew what she needed to do. She had to leave.

Crying—sobbing, really—she quickly packed her stuff. Then, she leaned over Keith's body so she was only a few inches away from his face. "Keith, I am so sorry." Her voice cracked. "I can't do this anymore. I can't watch you die." Tears were sliding down her face and falling on Keith's, sliding down his cheeks like he was crying, too. He didn't wake. "Keith, I love you. So much. I love you, I love you, _I love you_." She was crying so hard, if Keith had been awake, she wasn't sure he would've been able to understand her. She leaned down so their lips were touching. She tried to memorize the feeling of his lips against hers, soft and just _his_. Pulling away, she stared at him for a few seconds before she ran of his room.

In that moment, to Natalie, Keith died.

* * *

Natalie hadn't prepared to run into Henry on her way out. "Natalie?" he breathed, "what's wrong?" He tried to give her a comforting hug, but she wouldn't let him. She didn't deserve to be hugged by him, not by the man whose son's heart she had just broke. "Natalie, what—" He stopped and glanced her over and when she saw his worried expression turn to anger she knew he_ knew _what was going on.

"Natalie, you can't do this. Don't do this," he pleaded.

Tears were still falling down her cheeks; she didn't know if they would ever stop. "I can't do it, Henry. I can't watch him die."

Henry breathed deeply. "Natalie, he may not die. He's still fighting this." He added, his voice barely above a whisper, "But if you leave him he's going to have no reason to fight and then he _will _die."

Natalie spoke through her tears. "Henry, I can't—I just. I'm sorry. I—I have to go."

Turning around, she went to walk away but Henry grabbed her arm. "You at least told him, right? Talked to him?" She didn't answer and Henry knew what that meant. "You can't expect me to be the one to tell him, Natalie. You can't put me through that. You can't make me tell my son that his girlfriend his leaving him. It's going to kill me."

"I'm sorry," she cried, voice watery from her tears. "Please let go," she whispered.

He did. He dropped her arm like she had some contagious disease. He went to walk away, but stopped himself. "You're going to regret this, Natalie. One day, you'll realize what a horrible mistake you've made." He didn't wait for her to speak; he turned around and walked into the hospital.

Natalie watched him until he disappeared. The thing was, Henry didn't realize that regret wasn't something that always took time to appear; she was already full of regret. She already regretted what she was doing. But fear—so much fear—prevented her from going back to Keith. Where she belonged.

_**Now**_

_(December 2012)_

8.

Natalie stared transfixed at the two televisions the airport had hung up on a wall. The televisions displayed flights departing and arriving. She couldn't believe it. She was going to be stuck in Cincinnati for at least two days. Every single flight was cancelled. Prying her gaze from the screen, she walked a few feet to a window. There were dark grey clouds as far as her eyes could see. There was a tiny sliver of sun, but it was quickly disappearing and soon there would just be dark, unwelcoming clouds. It wasn't snowing much yet, just a few flakes, but trees were blowing in the wind. A storm was approaching. A blizzard.

Groaning, she let her forehead rest against the cold glass. This was going to be a long, horrible, extremely boring weekend. She groaned again (it made her feel better), before glancing at her ticket and making her way towards her gate. She didn't have any where else to go.

* * *

Three hours later, Natalie was going crazy. The airport was so crowded she wanted to scream. Every chair was now occupied, and people had taken to leaning against windows or lying on the floor. People were even bumping or stepping on each other. She had been lucky enough to get a seat but it wasn't that comfortable. With two people next to her, she felt very trapped. She knew what she needed.

Coffee.

And she was willing to give her spot up for it.

Grabbing her stuff, she carefully maneuvered herself toward the main area of the airport. Luckily, it wasn't as crowded in the hallway. There were still a lot of people, but she had least had breathing room.

A coffee shop was only a few feet away, but the line was long. She occupied herself by texting her family to get updates on the impending storm. It sounded bad; she hoped it would pass over, but by the looks of the weather report, it didn't look promising. She ordered a large coffee and a pastry to tide herself over until she decided what she was going to do for dinner later on since she was stuck at the airport for the night. She had called all of the hotels within reasonable distance of the airport, but everyone was booked.

She was busy putting her pastry in her purse and not paying attention to where she was going when she bumped into someone. "I'm sorry," she said, bending down to grab a napkin she had dropped. She had yet to get a look at the person she had run into.

"Don't worry about it," said a man's voice.

A voice that made Natalie freeze. She _knew_ that voice. It was the voice that haunted her memories and was in her dreams. A voice she hadn't heard in two years; a voice she thought she would _never_ hear again. She stood up slowly, as if preparing herself, and when she was eye level with the man, she gasped out loud. "Keith?" she whispered, the name tasting foreign on her lips, but oh so sweet.

He stared at her for a few seconds, as if he really couldn't believe his eyes and then said, voice almost a whisper, "Natalie?"

Before she could stop herself, she flung her arms around him and held on tightly. "Oh my god," she whispered into his chest. "I-I thought you were dead," she said, voice watery. Tears were falling down her checks and most definitely staining his sweatshirt. It took her a few seconds to realize Keith wasn't hugging her back; he was ramrod straight. She quickly pulled away, embarrassed. She hastily wiped away the tears from her cheeks and repeated, "I-I thought you were dead."

"Well, I'm not." His voice was cold and matter-of-fact. It made Natalie's blood turn cold. She wasn't sure why she was so surprised at his hostility; she deserved it, after what she'd done.

"I-I—" She had no idea what to say. There was so many things she wanted to tell him, to say. But she was so shocked she couldn't form any words. She thought he was dead; she thought he had _died_. When she left the hospital that July night, she had been positive he was going to die. But.

But here he was.

Finally, she managed to speak. "How are you?"

"Fine," was all he said. That's it. He didn't ask her how she was or ask her anything. Just said that one word.

"That's-that's good." She studied him then. The most striking thing about him was he looked _healthy_. So healthy. His skin had color to it and his cheeks had a faint blush to them. He looked like he had gained the weight and muscle back the cancer and chemotherapy had taken from him. And his hair was different. It was shorter than it had been two years ago, now falling a few inches before his ear. It looked like he was just growing it back. When she was done staring she felt awkwardness and silence between them; it was so palpable. "So," she started quickly, because _what if he just walked away_? "What have you been up to?"

"Working."

"Same here." She wanted to add: _Life isn't the same without you; life will never be the same without you._ But mostly she wanted to say:_ I am so so sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. For breaking your heart. _Since she'd left him, she had wanted to tell him those words so badly. She wasn't sure why. Maybe, deep down, she thought if she finally said them she could stop blaming herself for what she had done. And maybe one day he would be able to forgive her. As much as she had wanted to say those words, she had never expected to ever get the opportunity. She thought he had died, after all.

"Great," he said. He looked uncomfortable. "Well, it was good seeing you. I've gotta go."

"Bye," she said softly, shocked at his abrupt departure. Where did he had to be? They were stranded.

She hadn't been done talking to him. She needed more time with him. But then again, when it came to Keith, she would never have enough time.

* * *

Natalie couldn't lie to herself. Having Keith abruptly walk away had hurt. Badly. Even though she knew she deserved it, she couldn't stop her heart from how it felt. She spent the next half hour walking amiously around the airport, drinking her coffee, and eating her pastry. She stopped at the few stores that were open, but she couldn't keep her mind on mundane shopping; all she thought about was Keith.

For a few brief moments, she thought about walking through the entire airport until she found him. Five minutes was all she needed to explain why she had left him, why she had done what she had. Then she would leave him alone. For good. Wouldn't she?

As Natalie made her way back to her gate, ignoring her plan to find Keith, she glanced outside. It was dark out now, so she couldn't see the approaching clouds anymore.

Arriving at her gate (which, eventually, the plane would take her to the Illinois), she searched the area for the best place to rest. She hadn't been looking long when the sight of Keith left her breathless. She couldn't believe he was here, at the same gate. Did they have the same flight?

Biting her lip, she debated whether or not to go over to him. Earlier, he hadn't seemed like he wanted to talk to her, but she figured if she didn't try to talk to him now she would never get to. She maneuvered herself through the crowd of people and a few moments later, heart pounding, she was standing in front of Keith. He was leaning against the window, attention focused on his phone, and hadn't heard her approach.

Finally gaining the courage, she spoke, voice timid, "Hi, Keith."

His head shot up at her voice. Natalie couldn't decipher his look; she couldn't tell if he was angry or shocked. Maybe both. "Did you follow me here?"

"Uh, no," she said, blush growing in her cheeks at his question. "This is actually my gate."

"Oh," he replied, blush growing on his cheeks as well. "Guess we're on the same flight, then."

Natalie felt excitement fill her at this; she couldn't help it. "Guess so."

He stared at her for a few moments and Natalie stared back. Hesitantly, he asked, "Did you want something?"

_Yes, you_. "I was wondering if I could sit here?" She pointed to the empty space next to him.

He looked torn, and it hurt Natalie that he might actually say no. But luckily he didn't. "Okay."

She sat down next to him. They were close enough she could smell his cologne and it smelled like familiarity and home. Keith didn't speak to her; instead, he turned his attention back to his phone. Natalie tried to occupy herself by reading a book, but she couldn't focus on anything. Keith was right next to her. Every few seconds she would turn to glance at him, but his eyes never strayed from his phone. She wanted to know what he was doing. Probably playing some kind of game.

It was almost two hours before he finally put his phone away and spoke to her. "I'm going to get something to eat." He glanced around at all the people. "Uh, would you mind watching my stuff?"

Natalie shook her head, surprised he had actually acknowledged she was there. After he came back fifteen minutes later, with a hamburger, fries, and a soda, Natalie left to go get dinner herself. She wasn't sure how long the restaurants were going to stay open.

They ate in silence for a while before Natalie found the courage to speak. "So, uh, are you coming back from a vacation or visiting?"

He took a sip of his pop before answering. "Coming back from a work thing."

"So you still live in Illinois? Beaver Creek?"

"Uh huh. Haven't left."

"Oh. So," she started. It was difficult talking to him. At least he was answering her questions, but he didn't ask any back; it almost felt like she was having a one-sided conversation. "Where do you work?"

"With my dad. Haven't been able to find a fulltime job yet. I'm coming back from a conference where I was a speaker."

"A speaker?" asked Natalie curiously. "For what?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. He had yet to look at her. "It was for cancer. I travel to different cities a few times a year to give speeches about cancer. It's for children mostly." He shrugged and took a bite of his hamburger.

"Keith," breathed Natalie, "that's-that's great."

"I guess so." Natalie bit her lip before turning back to her food. She didn't know what else to say and she didn't want to keep talking to him if he didn't want to talk to her. She was surprised when he finally asked, "Are you flying to visit your parents?"

"Oh," said Natalie, taken aback. "Yeah, just visiting for Christmas."

Finally, _finally_ he looked at her. "What do you do?"

It took her a few seconds to compose herself at the intensity in his eyes. "I'm an editor for a writing magazine in New York."

"That's great," he said. "Glad you got to follow your dreams."

His sincerity made Natalie want to cry. Too many emotions were filling her. She wanted to tell him even though she was working her dream job it meant _nothing_ to her because something had always been missing. Him. Dreams meant nothing, she had learned, if a person doesn't have The One to be there to experience it with them. "Yeah, thanks."

Conversation stopped, but Natalie didn't care. Keith had _talked_ to her and had not walked away. Maybe this weekend wasn't going to be so bad after all.

* * *

At midnight Natalie was jolted from her sleep by her cell phone ringing. "Hello?" she answered, voice thick with sleep.

"Hi, this is Matthew from the DoubleTree Hotel. We have a room that just opened up; the guests decided to drive and try to beat the storm. If you can be here in an hour, you can have it. If not, we have a long waiting list and we'll have to give the room to someone else."

"No! No, I'll take it. I'll be there within the hour." Natalie practically squealed as she got off the phone. She had a _room_! She wouldn't be sleeping on the airport floor for however many days!

While packing her stuff quietly, she turned to look at Keith. He was fast asleep, head resting near Natalie's thigh. One arm was tossed over his eyes to keep out any light. For a few minutes, she stared at him. Remembering how, just two years ago, she had taken watching him sleep for granted. She had a hotel room, but now she wasn't sure she could leave Keith. There were too many things left unsaid.

Then an idea came to her.

It was rash and she wasn't sure how Keith would react, but she needed to ask. Lowering her head so it was close to his ear, she whispered, "Keith." One thing she remembered was he had to be woken up slowly or else he freaked out.

A few seconds later, his eyes opened and he blinked up at her. "What's going on?" he mumbled. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand to try and wake himself up.

"Uh," stalled Natalie, now almost embarrassed about what she was going to ask. "Well…" He was staring at her expectantly, eyes drooping closed every few seconds as he struggled to stay awake. "The thing is I got a hotel. They just called me."

"Lucky," he mumbled. "You get to sleep in a real bed."

"You can come if you want," she said so quickly it took him a few moments to process what she had said.

"Come with you?" he repeated. Her question seemed to wake him up.

"Yeah, I mean, I just thought I'd ask. We're probably going to be stuck here for a few days and didn't want to leave without asking…."

He sat up slowly, face a mixture of wariness and desire. "Um. I don't know…." He glanced around at all of the people. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Natalie frowned. "O-okay. I understand. I just—" A high wail from a baby interrupted her and she and Keith both looked in the direction of the screams. With her voice a little louder, Natalie said, "I just wanted to ask before I left." The baby let out another high-pitched wail. "I felt like—"

"Actually," started Keith, "I think I'll change my mind. A hotel sounds great."

"Really?" asked Natalie. She was shocked at how surprised she felt that he had actually agreed. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't really expected him to say yes.

"Yeah," he said, even though he still seemed hesitant. "Yeah, I'll come with you."

* * *

The wind was blowing so hard when Natalie first stepped outside, she had to grip onto Keith's arm in fear of blowing over. He tensed at her touch and she let go as soon as she righted herself.

They hailed a cab, which took longer than normal as not as many were in service. By the time they flagged a taxi down and got in, they were both shaking and their teeth were chattering with cold.

Luckily the hotel wasn't far away and checking in was quick. It was turning one in the morning when they walked into their room. The room was nicer than Natalie expected (and she was super thankful there were two beds, because that would've been _awkward_). There was a good-sized television and even a coffee pot and refrigerator with drinks.

Keith claimed the bed closest to the window and set his backpack on top of it before grabbing a few things and closing himself in the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later and Natalie watched him pull back the covers of his bed and get in. She thought he was going to go right to sleep, but instead he pulled a book out of his backpack and put on a pair of glasses before he started reading.

When had he started wearing glasses? He noticed her staring and said, "I won't keep you up, will I? I just need to read for a few minutes before I go to sleep. It's the only thing that unwinds me."

"Oh, no it's fine." But. "When did you start wearing glasses?"

She saw him tense at the question. "A year or so ago."

"Are they for reading?"

"Uh, yes." He waved his book in front of her.

"When did you—"

He cut her off, and for the first time since she had met him tonight, his eyes were burning with anger and…and hurt. "What's with all the questions? Is that why you asked me to come here with you? Not because you wanted to help me out but so you could ask me all these personal questions and I wouldn't be able to leave? Maybe if you hadn't _left me_, you wouldn't need to ask these stupid questions that I have _no_ interest in answering. Did you ever think of that?"

_Yes, ever since we've bumped into each other_, she wanted to say. But she didn't trust herself to say those words because she knew they'd cause her to cry. Instead she said weakly, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm going to sleep." Dropping his book and glasses on the floor, he turned off the light next to his bed and laid down on the farthest spot on the bed he could get from her.

* * *

Natalie woke up later than night, shivering. Wrapping the comforter around herself, she got out of bed. Quietly, she tiptoed past Keith's bed and to the window. She turned up the heat on the thermostat before she moved the curtains to look outside. Snow. There was so much snow. In the few hours since she had been asleep, at least ten inches of snow had accumulated on the ground; it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. It was still dark out, but with the aid of streetlights it was easy to see the snow blowing.

Letting the curtain fall closed, she turned around ready to go back to sleep, but stopped at the sight of Keith. He was lying on his stomach, arms underneath his pillow, facing her. He had kicked all his covers off and he was only in his boxer briefs and a t-shirt. He must've taken his pants off after he had turned the lights off. She tried not to stare. On her tip-toes, she walked over to his bed and picked up his comforter. Natalie bit back smile as she covered him with the blanket. With how much Keith seemed to have changed, she was glad there were some things that hadn't. Like his ability to_ always_ kick his covers off.

When he was covered, she knelt down next to his bed so she was only a few inches away from him. She knew what she was doing was risky. He could easily wake up any second, and how would she explain herself if he found her in the position she was in? But, as risky as it was, she couldn't stop herself from slowly bringing her hand to run her fingers through his hair.

She stopped after a few seconds, tears were already slipping down her cheeks and she didn't know how much longer she could stare at him. All she kept thinking was, '_What did I do? What have I done?_'

Taking deep breaths of air to try and calm herself down, she walked quickly to her nightstand, grabbed her phone, and locked herself in the bathroom. She had to tell someone about this; she couldn't hold it in anymore.

She needed to call Brooke.

It took three calls before she finally answered. "This better be good, Natalie. It's four in the freaking morning. You better not be calling me this early just 'cause you're stuck in an airport and bored and can't sleep 'cause there's a baby crying or—"

"Brooke," she choked out, voice thick with tears. "_Brooke_."

"Oh god. Natalie? What's wrong? What happened?"

It took her a minute to calm herself down enough to say, "It's Keith."

"What? Natalie, sweetie, did you say Keith?" Natalie could tell Brooke's voice was hesitant, like she really didn't want to bring up the name. Natalie didn't blame her; ever since the day she left she had refused to talk about him. To hear news about him. To _say his name_. Which is why she had never heard the news that he had actually survived; she hadn't wanted to. She hadn't needed to. To her, he had died.

"He's here, with me, and he's breathing and he is _alive_."

Silence. Then: "Keith is _with_ you?"

"Yeah," she said, and then the tears came so fast and so hard, Natalie almost choked on them. "And he hates me."

"Natalie, wait. Slow down. What do you mean he hates you and where are you guys?"

"I-I we bumped into each other at the airport and we're on the same flight. He came to the hotel with me."

"He came to the hotel with you?" she breathed. "A _hotel_? You mean where there's a _bed_?"

"No! It wasn't like that! We—I just thought to ask him to stay here since he didn't have a hotel and we're going to be stuck here for at least—we didn't do anything, geez, Brooke! He barley talks to me."

"Natalie, look, it's early in the morning and I'm not exactly sure what's going on, but listen to me: you have to give him time. You-you hurt him; you broke his_ heart_ and it's going to take him awhile to open up to you, okay? He's probably really guarded right now. And I'll be honest, he may never forgive you, and you can't blame him for that…but-but you know what? I think you guys meeting like this means something."

"Means what?" sniffed Natalie.

"It means fate."

* * *

Natalie woke up late, but it was still before Keith. She wandered around the tiny hotel room, trying to be quiet so she didn't wake him. She made coffee with the machine in the corner by the sink; the smell of coffee permeated the room, and after Natalie poured herself some in a tiny styrofoam cup, she made her way over to the window to stare at the snow. It was still coming down and at least an inch more had accumulated since she had last checked an hour ago.

She stared at the snow until she heard a half asleep voice ask, "Do I smell coffee?"

Natalie jumped a little, letting the curtain fall closed as she turned around to face Keith. He was still lying in bed, eyes half open. Natalie was frozen for a moment; she couldn't stop staring at him, wondering if this was really _real_ or if it was just a dream. It was Keith speaking up again that answered that question for her. "Uh, Natalie?"

"Oh, um, yeah! It's coffee. I made it." She glanced down at her cup. "It's not very good."

Keith let out a soft chuckle. "You never did make very good coffee." He sat up in bed, the comforter falling off of him. "So, did it snow?" he asked, already more awake.

"Oh yeah," started Natalie. "It snowed a lot."

The excitement that flashed across Keith's face was adorable. He jumped out of bed and pulled the curtain to the right to stare out at the snow. She tried hard not to stare at him as he was still wearing only his boxer briefs. "Wow," he said letting the curtain fall closed after a minute. "That's a lot of snow."

"Yeah," agreed Natalie. She felt a little uncomfortable and wasn't sure why.

"Even though we're stranded it's cool to see a blizzard like that."

Natalie nodded. "Yeah." She was glad he was at least talking to her but she was having a hard time actually speaking. He seemed to have the same problem now too, because silence followed and finally,_ finally_ Natalie said, "Hey, so this coffee basically sucks. Do you wanna go down and get breakfast?"

Keith stared right into her eyes. "Sure."

* * *

Breakfast was surprisingly nice for a buffet. They had a waffle maker, fruit, cereal, sausage, and scrambled eggs. Natalie made a beeline for the coffee machine before making herself a waffle. She decorated her waffle with strawberry sauce, syrup, and whipped cream. She found a small table next to a window so they could watch the blizzard. Keith found her easily and when he sat down with his plate, Natalie's eyes got wide. Not only did he have a waffle, he also had three pieces of sausage, four pieces of bacon, scrambled eggs, and some fruit.

"Are you really going to—"

"Yes," he said quickly. At this, they caught each other's gaze. "I guess," started Keith, his cheeks a little red, "even after two years we can still know what the other's thinking."

"Yeah," said Natalie, smiling a little, "guess so."

They ate in silence after that and didn't speak until they finished eating and had grabbed another cup of coffee. "So," started Natalie casually. It was all it took, though, that one word 'so' for Keith to tense. "So—I—"

Keith looked…a bit upset but not angry when he interrupted her, "Let me guess, you want to know about the cancer. How I managed to survive."

"Was I that obvious?" she shyly asked.

Keith shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe I just know you too well." He said this sadly and almost like he wished he didn't know her. It hurt.

Natalie gave Keith a wan smile. "Well, you're right. I-I don't want to upset you, but I mean I thought you were dead and then—this is all so surreal and I know it's not my place but I need to know. I mean, is the cancer gone?"

Keith gave a half nod. "Yeah, it's gone."

"For how long?"

"I stopped the chemo about six months ago."

"Only six months ago?"

"Yup."

"Oh god," she murmured. "I had no idea you'd be going through chemo that long I—" She stopped suddenly; she couldn't imagine Keith going through chemo for two years. She recalled the memories of the chemo as if they had happened yesterday—how much the medicine drained him, how sick it made him. There was silence after that and Keith didn't try to break it. He just sat there. Finally, Natalie spoke, "So were you in the hospital for the whole? Or…"

This question seemed to make him a tad uncomfortable. "I was in and out of the hospital most of the time, but after I woke up they decided I should just stay." With the way he was saying everything so quickly, Natalie had a hard time processing it, but one sentence kept running through her mind. When he woke up? What did that mean?

"What do you mean when you woke up?"

A blush grew on his cheeks. "Oh." He cleared his throat. "Maybe-maybe six months after you…after I started the chemo and I got really _really _sick and, well, I went into a coma."

Natalie's eyes got wide; her heart started beating rapidly and her hands started to shake. "A coma, Keith? Oh my god. For how long?"

He was staring outside at the snow, as if he couldn't stand to look at her. "Three and a half months."

Natalie mouthed the time, trying to process what he was telling her. "Keith, I-I don't know what to say." She wanted to say, _I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you_.

"It's okay," he said. He turned back in her direction but he still wouldn't look her in the eyes.

Natalie felt bad for not saying anything, so she finally said, "Well, you fought it and now you have your whole life to look forward to."

He laughed at her words, causing Natalie to frown. "A fighter? Me? Yeah, definitely not."

"What do you mean?"

He looked surprised she had asked this. "Natalie, after you—after you…I just didn't care. If it hadn't been for my dad I-I don't know if I would be here. He was the one fought for me. Me? I was just _there_."

"Keith, I'm so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. For everything."

Silence fell between them, and Natalie waited with bated breath for Keith to ask her something—anything. She would be honest. But he never asked her anything. Instead, he stood up suddenly and said, "Yeah…I think I'm going to check out the gift shop—maybe I can find some sweatpants."

And then he was gone.

* * *

For Natalie, even though she was stuck in a hotel, Saturday went by quickly. She knew why; it was because Keith was with her. It didn't matter they spent most of the day watching crappy movies and only left the room once to eat lunch, because there were special moments during the day when Keith actually started conversation and they talked. Natalie treasured those moments more than anything.

Of course, Keith was still guarded, but Natalie didn't expect this to change in one day, no matter how much she wished he would open up more. Any new information she found out about him, she treasured, because they were clues to his new life—the life he was living _without _her. It was hard for Natalie to accept he was living a life without her; it hurt her more than she had thought was possible. She deserved it, though. The hurt. In just the one day they had so far spent together, all the feelings Natalie had had for Keith came rushing back, almost like they had never actually disappeared, but rather she had kept them repressed. She wasn't going to lie to herself, being with Keith for only one day already made her want to be with him again.

And now? Now she wanted him more than anything.

Of course, she didn't tell him this. She had damaged their relationship, and no matter how much she wanted to tell him what she was thinking and feeling, she couldn't. She couldn't because she had broke their relationship, broke him. To ask him forgive her for that was selfish. She had to except the fact that he _wasn't _hers anymore, _never_ would be, and it was _all _her fault.

When their third movie ended, Keith hopped in the shower. Restless, Natalie went down to the gift shop to see if she could find some sweatpants like Keith. Wearing jeans for two days was getting extremely uncomfortable. She wasn't gone long, and didn't think to knock before walking into the room. It was a mistake; she found herself face-to-face with Keith. A half naked Keith.

"Oh shit!" exclaimed Natalie, quickly shielding her eyes before turning around to face the door. "I'm sorry! I—"

"It's okay," came Keith's voice. Natalie couldn't tell if he sounded embarrassed or upset. "Uh…you can turn around now."

She did and found Keith running his fingers nervously through his wet hair, a tiny blush on his cheeks. It wasn't until Natalie was in the bathroom changing into her new sweatpants did she realize why Keith had acted so strange. Because for the few seconds she had been staring at him, her eyes had been focused on his chest where a familiar scar was; a scar that went from the left of his heart, around his side, and ran a few inches up his back.

* * *

Sunday progressed like Saturday (it finally stopped snowing before they had gone to bed last night), so by the time dinner came around Keith and Natalie were dying of boredom. After eating at the only restaurant that was connected to the hotel, they ordered two bottles of wine from room service.

They situated themselves on Keith's bed, their backs leaning up against the headboard, before they opened the first bottle of wine. After Natalie's first glass of wine she started talking, not bothering to guard her conversation topics. Alcohol always made her loose and extremely talkative, less reserved. Emotional, too. It felt like she was talking to herself a lot, as Keith wasn't talking back much.

Keith was pouring himself a second glass of wine into the small plastic bathroom cups they were using when Natalie said, "So, you said on Friday you work for your dad and speak at conferences?"

He learned over her (making Natalie's heart flutter at how close he was) to set the almost empty bottle of wine on the nightstand. Once he was situated again, he took a sip of wine before saying, "Yeah."

"Oh, cool."

He took another drink, and looked deep in thought, almost like he wasn't sure he wanted to say what he was about to. "Since I only stopped chemo six months ago I wasn't able to work at the same time while going through treatment; I've only been looking for work for a few months. The speaking thing I've done for the past year or so. I'm trying to move…I'm trying to find a job in children's counseling. For cancer."

Natalie smiled. "That's great, Keith. Do you think you'd have to go back to school for that?" She knew he had been able to complete his last semester of college and get his college degree—which was in business—as he had told her yesterday.

"Probably," he said, actually sounding pretty excited. "Maybe in psychology. But I'm hoping I might be able to get experience for a while and then get my degree while working. I guess I'll see." He took another sip of his wine, which was now almost gone. "So, you're an editor? That's great. Do you love it?"

"Yeah," sighed Natalie wistfully. "It's really great. I'm still an assistant editor, but if I keep up with what I'm doing now I should be promoted in a few years."

"Do you like New York?"

"Love it!" she gushed. She took a sip of wine, savoring the taste before swallowing. "It's really great. I never want to leave. I love all the Broadway shows, and the liveliness of the city." This was all true, but Natalie also wanted to add, _If I could be with you, I would quit my job. I would leave New York. Because nothing compares to being with you. _Even though she had only been with Keith for two days, and it seemed like she and Keith had changed so much, there was one thing she knew hadn't.

Her love for him.

"Cool," said Keith, interrupting Natalie from her thoughts. "So, are you seeing anyone?" The alcohol must have been affecting Keith by now, because Natalie was positive he wouldn't have asked that question without the aid of wine.

Natalie was shocked nevertheless and it took her a few moments to compose herself. "No," she said, voice soft. "I've been on a few dates, but…" _They weren't _you. "But they didn't work out." She bit her lip and looked at him shyly. "What about you?"

She wasn't sure how she wanted Keith to answer this question. Part of her wanted to say he was because that meant she hadn't broke him beyond repair. But the other part of her wanted him to say no because her heart physically hurt when she thought of Keith being with someone (especially in_ that_ way) who wasn't her.

"No," he said quickly. Then he guzzled the rest of his wine. "Apparently I have 'trust' issues." He said this sarcastically and with a hint of bitterness.

"Oh," breathed Natalie. "Keith, I'm sorry. That's-that's probably because of me." She took a deep breath. "I screwed up and I know that and I—"

"Whatever," he said. The tone in his voice hinted that this topic was over. But Natalie didn't want it to be. She had things that _needed _to be said.

"Keith, please. I just-I want to explain." She bit her lip. "Explain why I left."

At this, he leaned over her again, his movements not as graceful as earlier. "I don't need you to explain anything to me. You_ left_ me. That's all I'll ever need to know."

"I-I understand that, but I just wanted to explain more of why I left. I didn't leave you because—"

"I don't want to hear any of your excuses, okay?" He got off the bed then, swaying a little before making his way over to the table to grab the other bottle of wine. He had already finished the remaining wine he had just poured into his cup. Once his cup was full, he made his way back over to the bed, drink in one hand, bottle in the other. Natalie grabbed the bottle from him once he sat down and poured herself another cup as well.

Neither of them spoke for a long, long time.

* * *

Natalie was drunk and she was pretty sure Keith was, too. Or at least, they were both incredibly tipsy. They were both lying on their backs on the bed now. "Are you spinning?" asked Natalie, turning her head to the left to look at Keith.

"A little," he chuckled, then winked. "I don't think I've drank this much in years. It was best to not drink while going through chemo. I did once and I regretted it—for days—afterwards."

Natalie smiled. She turned onto her side so she was facing Keith more; she scooted closer to him and hoped he didn't notice. "Well," she started, "as you probably remember, I've never been able to hold my alcohol."

"Yes," he said softly. "I do remember."

Natalie didn't reply; she was too busy staring into his eyes. She wasn't sure how long she stared into them before she started leaning closer to him. No matter how much her mind told her not to, she couldn't stop herself. Maybe it was because of the wine. And then, suddenly, her lips were touching his. He tensed underneath her, but didn't pull away. Natalie didn't think she could pull away even if he asked.

Hesitantly, she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss and his lips followed hers. Their kisses were slow and tentative at first, but then Natalie wanted—no _needed_—more. His lips were intoxicating and so so familiar. He tasted of long lost memories and love and safety. Natalie was kissing the side of Keith's neck now; she kissed everywhere she could. His lips; his neck; his collarbone. Not once did he try to stop her or push her away.

They kissed for how long, Natalie didn't know; it had to have been at least fifteen minutes. Natalie broke away suddenly, wanting more of Keith than just kisses. "Keith," she breathed, staring at his red lips. "I want you."

At her words, Keith tensed and something like awareness crossed his face and he rolled over and off the bed so quickly Natalie tumbled off of him.

"I-I can't do this," he said quickly. He stood up shakily on his feet. "I-I knew this would happen." He seemed completely sober now; Natalie kind of felt it too. The world wasn't spinning any more and she could see Keith clearly; he was standing next to the bed, looking lost and confused and…almost angry. His posture and expression made her blood turn cold.

"Do what?" she whispered. She knew what he meant, but the words gushed out anyway. Tears were blurring her vision because she had _never _seen Keith like this and it scared her.

"DO THIS WITH YOU!" he screamed, gesturing his hands between himself and her. "I can't do this. I can't kiss you; I can't make—have sex with you. I can't be here. It's too hard."

"Why is it too hard?" she whispered again. That had to be the stupidest thing she had ever asked.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" he growled. "Because you left me! You left me, but for some stupid reason I still haven't stopped loving you. And I have _tried_. I-I can't kiss you any more because it will lead to sex and when it's all over? And you wake up sober? You'll leave me again." He choked on his words. He looked on the verge of tears. Fighting to keep the tears in he finished, voice cracking, "Just like before. That can't happen again, Natalie." His voice cracked and he stopped to try and compose himself. Natalie thought about interrupting him to explain herself, but she couldn't get any words to come out. "I can't be around you," he finished. He turned around then, grabbing his backpack that was next to the television and frantically throwing his stuff that was around the room into his bag.

"You're leaving?" she sobbed. "Don't leave. Keith, please, you _can't_ leave." He couldn't leave. This wasn't how it was suppose to go.

He twisted around, his movements frantic and angry. "Why not?"

"Because I need—"

"Need what?"

"You," she admitted. Big, fat tears started rolling down her cheeks. "You, Keith. I. need. you. Please believe me."

"Me?" he laughed sarcastically. "You need me?" He glanced up toward the ceiling for a few seconds and Natalie saw tears fill his eyes. "That's funny," he spat after he composed himself, "because you know what I remember? I remember two years ago when you left me. I don't know, Natalie, maybe I misunderstood but I took that as you not wanting to be with me. I took you leaving me as you didn't ever really love me. You couldn't even talk to me; you didn't even _say goodbye_. So I'm sorry if you find it hard for me to actually believe that you ever wanted me, let alone need me." His voice was thick and tight and Natalie knew he was rapidly loosing his ability to prevent his tears from coming.

Because he was dangerously close to falling apart in front of her, Natalie couldn't let him continue and finally blurted out, trying to keep her voice calm, "Keith, you _did _misunderstand me. I didn't leave you because I didn't love you or because I didn't want to be with you anymore. I left you because I was scared, okay? I left you because I loved you _too_ much and I couldn't bare to watch you die. That's why I left." There. She had finally said it. Finally admitted it. She had expected to feel some sort of relief, but she felt nothing, because her words didn't seem to get the reaction from Keith she had hoped for.

"I was scared, too, Natalie, and I needed you." His voice had lost its anger now, and now Keith sounded defeated. A small sob came out and he covered his mouth, as if ashamed, and whispered behind his hand, "I needed you and you left me." He lost it then. His battle against the tears. Teardrops fell from his eyes and slid down his cheeks at a rapid pace. He tried to wipe them away but he was crying so much the tears were coming too fast for him to wipe them all away.

He turned around so Natalie couldn't see his face; he fell against the TV stand, and it looked as if it was the only thing holding him up. He was crying _that_ hard. Natalie heard his sobs, even though she could tell he was trying so hard to repress them, so hard to just _stop crying_. Hearing Keith cry was the worst sound Natalie had ever heard; she hadn't known someone could cry like this. His tears were full of so much _pain_ it caused her heart to ache and she wanted to cry too.

And Keith was crying like this all _because of her_.

She couldn't watch him break down like this anymore, not without comforting him. Getting off the bed, she hesitantly walked over to him and said, while putting her hand on his back, "I'm so sorry. I—"

"Don't touch me," he growled, flinching away from her touch.

Tears still sliding down his cheeks he frantically zipped up his backpack, and Natalie stood there, not sure what to do. She just knew she couldn't let him leave. "Keith, can we please talk about this. I don't want to leave it like—"

"THERE IS NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT!" he screamed, his voice so loud and raw Natalie actually flinched. He glared at her, chest heaving with emotion; his eyes were red and wet. And then, without another word, he pushed past her.

And that was it. Natalie watched him walk to the door, open it, and finally disappear. She stared at the door for a long time, hoping he would come back but knowing he wouldn't. After a few minutes, she collapsed on the bed in a sobbing mess, asking herself only one question:

What had she done?

9.

Natalie's flight left Tuesday afternoon. Keith wasn't on the flight back like she had hoped. Natalie figured, maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was better to let Keith cool off before she tried to talk to him again. Because she _was_ going to find him again. If there was one thing Natalie knew, she wasn't going to let Keith go again. At least not without a fight.

The plane started to descend a few hours later, just as the sun began disappearing for the night. The sun's rays streamed through the tiny plane windows, bathing everything and everyone in a blinding yellow light. It was so bright for a few seconds, Natalie had to close her eyes until the plane descended a few hundred feet and then sun was gone.

Natalie arrived at the Chicago airport tired and exhausted. Her mom, Caroline, was waiting for her at baggage claim and Natalie had never been so happy to see her. When they hugged, Natalie held on longer than normal. Her mom noticed. "Sweetie," asked Caroline, pulling away to looked at her daughter. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Natalie opened her mouth to respond, but took a few seconds to compose what she wanted to say. She couldn't explain everything that had happened over the passed few days in a few sentences. "Mom, it's—it's been a long weekend."

"What happened?" asked Caroline softly, as if she was afraid Natalie might breakdown.

"It's Keith, Mom," she whispered, his name still tasting foreign on her lips. "I bumped into him at the airport in Ohio. He's _alive_ and he stayed with me for two days." She took a deep breath before adding, "I've-I've screwed up so much. But you know the worst part?"

"What, sweetie?"

"In those two days I realized something. I still love him. I-I don't think I've ever stopped."

Caroline didn't speak until the buzzing of the baggage claim arrival started a minute later. The alarm startled her into finding the right words. "Let's go get your bag and then why don't we go get dinner and talk about it?"

"That sounds perfect."

10.

The Christmas holiday passed by quickly. Natalie spent the week meeting old high school friends and spending time with her family. Especially her mom and Brooke, who she talked to about Keith a lot. She told them what she had done (that _she _had left him, that it _hadn't _been mutual) and how she wanted to fix it. Now, a week later Natalie knew what she needed to say to Keith.

If there was one thing she had learned, she was done regretting her actions. Tired of regretting something she had done and not finding the courage to fix it. Natalie knew now that not doing anything was the worst possible thing to _do_. Regret was like a disease, the longer she lived with it, the more it consumed her. The more it broke her.

The regret she kept inside from leaving Keith had done that to her. It had taken her down, bit by bit, and finally broke her.

She was ready to put herself back together.

And to do that she needed to talk to Keith. Talk to him and explain, apologize, and see if there was any sliver of hope they could salvage their past and build a future together. She knew she had told him why she had left in the hotel room, but she wasn't sure he had even listened to her he had been so upset. She wanted one more chance with him.

It took her until New Year's Eve to get the courage to leave and talk to Keith.

She left her house just as the sun was setting; she left at this time on purpose. It seemed fitting. It wasn't until she got into her car did she realize she didn't know where Keith lived. That meant only one thing: she was going to have to find him. She tried his dad's house first, but neither Keith nor Henry was home. After she had knocked on the door, she sat in her car, knowing where she needed to go next but terrified of what would—could—happen.

As she drove to Henry's garage, she tried to practice what she was going to tell him. She knew she had to get it right; Henry wasn't going to let her know where Keith lived unless she explained herself and he was positive she wasn't going to hurt his son again.

Thankfully, Henry was in the garage, head inspecting the hood of an old pickup truck. She hovered by him a few seconds before she finally cleared her throat and choked out, "Uh, hi, Henry."

At the sound of her voice, Henry tensed before turning toward the direction of her voice. He didn't say anything; instead, while staring at her, he grabbed a dirty rag that was resting next to him and wiped his hands on it. When he was done he finally said, business-like, "Natalie."

Silence followed and Natalie took a deep breath to prepare herself. "I-I came here to-to talk about Keith," she stuttered out. "I _really_ need to talk to him, but I don't know where he lives."

"I thought so," said Henry coolly. "He told me what happened. How you guys meet up and stuff. I'm not sure I should let you talk to him, Natalie, he was extremely upset."

"I know," agreed Natalie. "That's why I need to talk to him. I—Henry, I can't let him go."

"But you did."

"I know I did," she cried. Tears were streaming down her face already, but she didn't attempt to stop them. "Henry, I've regretted leaving Keith the moment I left." She stopped, blinking tears out of her eyes. "I want you to know I left because I was scared. Scared of him dying. I loved him so so much that watching him die was breaking me and I knew I couldn't be there when he died in front of my eyes. I know nothing I say will ever make up for what I did. I'm so sorry I hurt your son, but I just want to make it right."

"Why now? Why two years later? He almost died, Natalie, _died_ because he didn't think he had anything left to live for."

More tears came at his admission. "Because I thought he _had_ died. The moment I left him, to me, he died. For some stupid reason it was easier that way. Every day I wanted to call, even though in my mind he had died, because there was always the doubt in my mind that he hadn't. But I was too much of a coward to pick up the phone. I tried, countless times, but just the idea of you confirming to me was gone? I-I couldn't…I couldn't do it."

Henry was silent for a while as he took in what Natalie had said. "If I let you go talk to him," he finally started, "and let's say something happens. What will you do about work? You don't live here, right?"

"No," she sniffed. "No, I live in New York."

"So? What will you do?" he pressed. "I'm not stupid man, Natalie, I know you do want to explain yourself and apologize, but I know you also want more. And I also know how Keith still feels about you. That's the crazy thing about love, Natalie. Sometimes a person can't stop loving someone, no matter what they've done, and how long they've been away." He looked at her seriously. "You may not know this but Keith is an incredibly forgiving guy. Way too forgiving, I think." He sighed. "So I need to know, before you go and talk to him, what you're planning on doing if something does happen. What will you do about work?"

"I'll quit. I'll move back here."

Henry seemed a tad surprised but pleased at her response. "Okay," he relented. "Okay, I'll let you know where he lives, but don't make me regret my decision."

"I won't, I promise."

Henry nodded. "You need to know that being with Keith is not going to be like it was years ago. He's changed. He has trust issues and fixing your relationship will not be easy. It will be hard. It will take time."

"I know," she agreed, "but I'm willing to try."

Henry gave her a soft smile. "I have one more question."

"Yeah?" she asked softly.

"Do you love him?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "More than anything."

* * *

Keith lived a twenty minutes from Henry's shop. The drive allowed Natalie to make sure she knew exactly what she was going to say; she only had one chance and wanted to make sure she told him everything that needed to be said.

When she arrived at his apartment complex it took her ten minutes to get out of the car and then she paced in front of Keith's apartment door for another five minutes. After finally getting the courage to knock, she felt like she was going to pass out, her heart was beating so fast. Then, as she waited, she had a minor panic attack. What if he saw it was her and didn't open the door? She let out a deep breath when she realized there wasn't a peep hole and he would at least have to open the door before he knew it was her.

The lock clicked and then the door opened and Keith was standing there. He was in baggy sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a t-shirt. He tensed and Natalie said hesitantly, "Hi, Keith."

"What do you want?" His voice was like ice and Natalie shivered.

"I need to talk to you."

He let out a sarcastic chuckle. "No, you don't. Goodbye."

He went to slam the door on her, but Natalie quickly put her foot between the door and the wall. "Wait, Keith, stop. Don't close the door."

"Why not?" he growled. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Well, I have a lot to say to you," argued Natalie.

Keith glared. "What if I don't want to hear what you have to say?"

Natalie bit her lip, not sure how to respond. "I'll keep coming back. I'll keep coming back until you let me say what I need to."

This must have been the right thing to say, because Keith opened the door a few inches and asked, "How'd you know where I lived?"

"Your dad told me."

He looked surprised at this. "My dad?" he asked, aghast.

"Yeah." Keith looked upset at this. "I'm sorry," started Natalie, "but he was the only person I could ask to find out where you lived. Trust me, he didn't give me your address right away."

"Oh great," he said sarcastically. "That makes me feel loads better." He stared at Natalie expectantly. "So, you need to talk? Then talk."

Natalie wrapped her arms around herself. "Can we talk inside? It's kind of cold."

Keith considered this. "Fine."

He moved to the side so Natalie could walk in. He closed the door behind her and Natalie knew he was waiting for her to start talking but she was too busy taking in his apartment.

It looked very different from the one they had shared. It was much smaller and had fewer decorations. Natalie was surprised to see he did have nice furniture and a nice television. To the right of the living room, she could see his bedroom. The door was open and even though the bed was new, the comforter wasn't. It was the same one they had bought together when they moved into their apartment. She wondered where all their furniture was. She figured he had gotten rid of it. The memories must've been too painful. She didn't blame him.

A clearing of a throat broke Natalie's train of thought and she stared back at Keith. "I don't have all night, you know."

"Sorry." She took a deep breath and then said, "Keith, I came here for a few reasons. First, I want to say I'm _so _sorry. For everything I've put you through." He didn't respond to this. He just stood there looking a little vulnerable. She continued, "Second, I came here because I realized I need to stop doing things because I'm scared and I want to stop doing things I'll regret. After we bumped into each other at the airport I realized I have never—not for one second—stopped loving you and I can't walk away from you again. Not without a fight."

"Do you," started Keith; his voice cracked and he took a moment to compose himself. "Do you realize how much you hurt me?"

"Yes," she cried. "And it kills me to know—"

"After you left me, I didn't care if I was going to die. _You _did that to me. You broke me, Natalie."

"I know," she whispered, defeated. "And I hate myself for it." Keith tilted his head at his, but didn't say anything more. "Keith, I'm sorry for everything I've done, and I know it's selfish of me to say that I need you and want you back but I do. I wanted to come by and tell you that because I need you to know how I feel. I want you to know one thing: I. love. you." She could see wetness building in his eyes and he crossed his arms over his chest as if protecting himself. "I realize this is a lot to process and you'll need time, but I want you to know I'll wait for you."

Keith looked overwhelmed. And he stayed silent as Natalie handed him a scrap piece of paper. "Here's my number. If you to—if you ever want to call me…."

"Okay," he whispered as he took the paper from her.

Natalie waited a few seconds for him to say something, but he just stood there, staring at her, eyes wide. "Bye, Keith." And then Natalie left. As soon as Keith's door closed behind her, the tears came. It was so cold out she could feel them freezing to her cheeks.

When she got to her car, she fell against it, sobbing so hard she couldn't catch her breath. She couldn't stop crying; it felt like her heart was ripping out of her chest. Nothing had gone the way she had planned. She felt like she had lost Keith all over again.

She was crying so hard she couldn't hold herself up anymore and she slid to the ground. Natalie wasn't sure how long she had been sobbing—at least ten minutes—when she heard the sound running of feet. She knew she should get up, people would wonder what was wrong with her, but she couldn't get the energy to stand. It felt like grief was holding her down. The sound of running feet neared her, and then stopped in front of her. She kept her head down, as she waited for the stranger's voice to ask her what was wrong. But then she lifted her head a few inches and she saw the person's shoes. Grey converse. Natalie's breathed hitched in her throat and she finally looked up.

Keith.

"Natalie," breathed Keith, when they caught each other's eyes. He was standing there, panting a little, but staring right into her eyes.

She wiped at her cheeks and hastily stood up. She felt numb. Numb with cold and pain. "What are you doing?" she asked, eyeing the car keys in his hand.

"I-I was going to find you." He was chasing after her? Even after everything she had done? "You weren't answering your phone…."

"You were going to find me?" she breathed, still not believing it.

Keith looked a little nervous and then bit his lip before he said, "I've never stopped loving you, no matter how much I wanted to. When we bumped into each other it was hard because I wanted to hate you so much, but I had all these feelings for you that wouldn't go away. And it scared me, because I've wanted them to go away. For two years, I want them to just freaking disappear. But they didn't. They _won't_." He blinked again. "Natalie, you have no idea how mad I was at you for leaving me, how much I hated what you did to me. But as much as I wanted to hate _you_, I couldn't. And after you explained why you left me, I was sad, I was angry, but I _understood_. Maybe that understanding is the reason I want to try again with you. I'm just—I'm scared you'll hurt me again."

"I won't hurt you like that again," whispered Natalie. She felt a surge of hope and maybe happiness rise in her. "I can promise you that."

"What are you going to do about your job? Your home? Your life?"

"I'll quit. I'll move back here. I will do anything." She took a step closer to him. "You are my life, Keith."

"What if it comes back?" he whispered and Natalie barley understood him. "The cancer."

She closed the distance between them and placed both her hands on the side of his face before saying, "Listen to me. I will _never _leave you. Ever again. I won't leave you if the cancer comes back. I won't leave you if you get sick. I promise you."

A tear made its way down Keith's cheek and Natalie wiped it away with her thumb. She hoped they were happy tears. He took in a shaky breath. "O-okay," he said hesitantly.

Natalie started crying, taking in gulps of air to try and calm herself down. She pulled her arms away from his face and wrapped them around his chest, leaning her head against him. "What happens now?" she asked after a few seconds.

"Stay with me," whispered Keith. "Just _stay_."

11.

Natalie woke suddenly, eyes flying open and taking in her surroundings. She realized where she was when her eyes landed on Keith. He was sleeping on his stomach, arms under his pillow, breathing deeply.

A smile graced her face as she stared at him. The smile reached her eyes the first time in years. Quietly, as to not wake Keith, she got out of bed and tip-toed to the window where she pulled the curtain aside.

She was greeted with the most beautiful sunrise she had ever seen. It bathed the city in oranges, blues, and pinks, making the city look brand new and alive.

Transfixed, she watched the sunrise until she heard a half asleep voice ask, "What are you doing?" She turned around at Keith's voice and watched as he woke up more. As he did so, his face turned from confusion to worry to disappointment. "Are you leaving?"

Natalie walked over to the bed and got in. She wrapped her arms around him. "No, I'm not leaving," she whispered in his ear. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

It only took him a few minutes before sleep claimed him. Natalie lied next to him and watched the sun rise. Natalie knew her and Keith's relationship wasn't going to be easy. There would be tears and pain, but they would work through it. As she watched the sun rise and light up a new day, it only meant one thing.

A new beginning.

* * *

**A/N:** _I hope you guys enjoyed it (even if it was rather sad; hopefully the ending made up for it). I fought with this story a lot, so I really hope you liked it. I would love to hear your thoughts. Please review and thanks for reading!_


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